Treasured Victim
by Raxi-Jest
Summary: Harleen Quinzel can not believe it when she is assigned the case of the Joker: Gotham's most feared criminal. Will she be able to cure him or will her heart fall victim to tricks of love, along with her sanity? A Nolanverse story based on Paul Dini's Mad Love featuring Harley Quinn and the Joker. Will be rated M for future chapters but is rated a T for now due to swearing.
1. Lamb to Slaughter

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:  
This is my first fanfiction, this story is set after the events of The Dark Knight, and what I think would happen if Harley was introduced to the Nolanverse.**

-x-

_Lamb to the Slaughter_

This was it, months of training at medical school and I still didn't feel prepared, though I doubt I never would truly. I looked in the bathroom mirror, doing a final make up check and sighed. I still looked too childish - no matter how hard I tried to look professional. I'd scraped my blonde hair back in what I hoped was a sophisticated bun but it only emphasised my wide blue eyes and flushed cheeks. The lack of sleep was evident in the dark circles under my eyes which I had tried in vain to conceal.

Only two days my boss Dr Arkham had assigned me one of the most important cases of my career: the Joker. He had plundered on about my display of 'clearly well assured' methods and successes, trying to me win me over into doing the case, but I knew that the real reason he wanted me to do it was just because they had run out of other willing doctors. Despite this, I had agreed. I mean, this was the case of a lifetime! The Joker: the seeming impossible case to cure. If I did it, I would be finally recognised as someone big, you know?

This man, can I even call him that? He had openly tortured someone live on TV, blew up a hospital and had two ferries competing for their lives. After the complete chaos he had caused 2 months ago, he had finally been incarcerated by the Batman. This 'man' was the so called "star" of the asylum, feared even by the other super criminals there - and I was going to be his doctor. I was going to be famous. I could write a 'Tell all' book on my sessions with him, everyone would be interested, despite themselves. I knew it.

My anxious mind drifted as I drove to work. The asylum was a dirty stain of darkness on the whole city, its towering walls providing no barrier against the horror within. This beast of a building seemed to ooze of pestilence, the very air full of sickness enticing people in as prey to this monster. I'd never dreaded going to work as much as I did right now. He had already seen 6 different doctors during his stay at Arkham Asylum - none of them had lasted more than a week. I felt the butterflies in my stomach resurface as the complete hopelessness of his case dawned on me.

Pulling into the car park, I did one more make-up check just to calm my building nerves before making my way into the asylum. It was the middle of the winter in Gotham. The sky was perpetually dark, and the winds blisteringly cold. Wrapping my scarf tighter around my neck, I hurried to the door, my eagerness to be in the warm temporarily pushing the thought that I was getting ever closer to my first session with him.

"Dr Quinzel?" said one of the nurses at the counter as I walked over, of whom I did not know the name of.

"Yes?" I replied, trying not to let my nerves show.

"Dr Arkham wants to see you in his office" she replied. She must have noticed the worried look still etched on my face because she quickly added "Don't worry honey, he didn't look angry".

Pushing down the anger that swelled inside me I gave her a curt nod, thanking her coldly before making my way up to his office. So, possibly I over reacted a little, but I'm sick of everyone treating me like I'm helpless just because I was young and pretty. I was a qualified doctor, god dammit, and yet everyone felt the need to mother me as if they thought I was going to go running out the gates any minute. Though that thought seemed far too tempting right now. I knocked on Dr Arkham's door a little too hard, took a deep breath and let myself in.

"Good morning Jeremiah" I said, sitting down on the seat opposite his desk. He was an attractive man in a sort of classic film way with short dark hair and a strong jawline, however, he was - to put it nicely - a complete ass. We went on a date once, but it didn't work out and since then things were even more awkward between us. I couldn't understand why he couldn't just let it go.

"Good morning Harleen" he said icily. "How are you feeling? You session is scheduled for 20 minutes from now".

"A little nervous" I admitted. "And that's fine, I was just planning on doing a little introductory session today" I said, trying for a confident smile.

"Wise, but I warn you right now; he might not speak to you at all. Two of the therapists who saw him gave up after two weeks of silence with him" he warned me.

"I saw the tapes" I said uneasily, trying not to let my mind rest on the thoughts of the interview tapes I had heard; how he had ripped apart the minds of doctors (far more experienced than I was) in just one session. He seemed to be able to pick up on any of the doctor's weaknesses within 10 minutes, groping at the cracks in their psyche until they were gaping holes.

"Remember, you have your panic button I gave you yesterday and if you need anything the guards will be just outside. He may be chained up but he is still extremely dangerous" he said, placing a hand on my shoulder for support for a few seconds.

"Thank you" I said, smiling uncomfortably, the feeling of his hand still lingering on my shoulder. "I'm going to go set up, I don't want to be late" I said

"Dr Leland will be in her office once you're finished. I expect you to give her a briefing of all your sessions" he chided. I nodded at him and quickly let myself out of his office.

The walls of the asylum seemed to loom over me as I walked to my office. I pretended to ignore the rowdy comments from the louder inmates as I hurried down the halls. I had decided to carry out my sessions in my office to try and create a safe haven for my patients outside their cells. The walls were white and I'd made sure not to leave any clues around the room to indicate anything of my life outside of work. Some of the patients here were very cunning and would turn even the smallest bits of information against you. I glanced at the clock, sitting down at my desk. Oh god, I only had a few minutes.

There was a sharp knock on my door before a guard came in.  
"Dr Quinzel, your patient is here" he said, spitting the word patient out with disgust.

"That's fine, bring him in" I replied as smoothly as I could, despite my pumping heart. I straightened my slouched shoulders and smoothed my clammy hands over my tight black skirt. The whole air seemed to shift when they brought him in, securing him to the chair as quickly as they could whilst trying to avoid touching him. My attempts at turning my office into a calming atmosphere suddenly seemed pathetically futile. He remained passive throughout the entire process, his eyes closed. I quickly raked my eyes over his face, trying to absorb as much detail as I could before he opened his eyes and caught me staring.

I'd seen him on the news a hundred times but nothing compared to real life. His skin was unbelievably pale even without the makeup, stretched taught against his cheek bones. The puckered scars, an angry red smile carved permanently into what would have once been a handsome face I'm sure. A disarray of wild, unwashed dark blonde hair spilled over his forehead, the end tipped green from his last dye job. He was far too skinny for his height, his bones protruding unpleasantly, his strange skin tight over them. Making a mental a note to question Dr Leland afterwards about his eating habits, I got out my notebook and pen.

It was five minutes into the session and he still hadn't opened his eyes. I cleared my throat and spoke.

"Hello, I am Dr Quinzel and I will be your new therapist" I said in what I hoped was a bright and friendly enough manner. His mouth pulled up into a smirk as he opened his eyes, causing me to gasp. His eyes burned. They were black in colour and so intense they seemed to blister with the heat of it. He looked me once over quickly before turning his scolding eyes back onto my baby blues.

"So they literally sent the lamb to the slaughter, hmm?" he said lazily, each articulated word rolling out of his curled mouth. My previous anger at the nurse rushed back to me at his words.

"Excuse me?" I replied, forcing myself to keep hold of our eye contact, trying to seem unfazed by his words.

"Look at you; you must be what, about 25? And yet they send you in here with me. They really must be running out of therapists by now" he said, mockingly, laughing to himself, revealing a set of straight but feral looking teeth.

"Well you have been an exceedingly difficult patient" I countered, trying to keep my tone light despite my deep aggravation, once against hating my 'cutesy' features.

"I try my best" he said, before leaning back and closing his eyes again. I quickly let out a breath, I hadn't realised I'd been holding, the minute his burning eyes were hidden.

"So I see" I replied haughtily, forgetting I was in a room with a mass murderer. He raised an eyebrow at my impulsive response but made no indication of answering. We sat like that for another 5 minutes, him apparently dozing off somehow in his chains, and me trying to think of what to say. Realising I had gotten all I would out of him today I called the guards to take him away. I didn't want to push him to talk in fear of angering him, but the silence was beginning to get horrifyingly uncomfortable.

The guards went about unchaining the same fashion, trying to do it as quickly as possible, leaving the chains on his wrists. Just as one of the guards was removing the chains of his ankle the Joker quickly lunged forward shouting "Boo!" in his ear, before throwing his head back in reckless abandon, the chaotic laughter streaming out of his mouth, making me cringe in my seat. Just before leaving the room, he quickly turned his head to face me.

"That hairstyle doesn't suit you by the way" he said flippantly, before being roughly dragged out by the same guard he had frightened, the door clicking behind them shutting of his jubilant giggles.

My hand shot instinctively to my hair, my mouth open in surprise. I looked down at my desk, and scowled as I realised I had forgotten to take any notes. So much for writing a ' tell all' book Harleen. I gathered up my papers quickly, still trying to wrap my head around this man's unpredictable and disarming personality before leaving for Dr Leland's office, unsure whether to be pleased or not about how the session went.


	2. A Firm Grip

I was happy, defeated – but happy as I drove home. Dr Leland had said I was right to cut the session where I did; it was the silence that did it for the other therapists. I'd only been in the room with him for about 15 minutes but I could already feel the effects of having him as my patient. My mind kept going over our session as I drove home, replaying every little word as I struggled to glimpse an insight to the way the Joker worked. The familiar black and white streets blurred by as I neared home. My apartment was just off the Narrows, not the nicest of places to live but money was tight.

I pulled into the communal car park, and hastily made my way inside. You could never feel completely safe in Gotham at night, there was bound to be trouble somewhere nearby, even with the shadow of the Bat hanging over the head of criminals. Locking my front door, I slumped into the nearest chair. I quickly fumbled through my bag, trying to find my notebook and turning it onto a fresh page. In my anticipation I had forgotten to take any notes in my session so I decided to write a few up now.

I wrote about how the guards were scared of him, it was obvious in the way they handled him. Not that this was an exactly surprising insight, everyone was scared of the Joker, even if they acted like they weren't. The Joker seemed to have little regard for his personal hygiene; his teeth were yellow in colour and his hair was matted and greasy. I couldn't decide if this was a reflection of the hard lifestyle he must have lead or simply because he didn't care.

I looked at the clock and gasped, I had been sat here for almost 2 hours! I scowled at the clock face as if trying to blame it. I had no idea how I had managed to let 2 hours slip by just sat at the kitchen table. I yawned, a sudden feeling of fatigue washing over me. I stumbled over to my bedroom and collapsed on my bed, sleep enveloping me into its comforting arms.

-x-

I woke up to realise two things: I was still fully clothed and my lights were still turned on to my dismay, thinking about my electricity bills. I groaned as I sat up, my body aching where my skirt and blazer had dug painfully into my skin as I slept. Going to bed had always been an efficient routine for me, making mornings easy and stress free, but now my clothes were all creased and I hadn't time to iron them. Scowling, I groped through my wardrobe before settling on a red shirt which I paired with black skirt I slept in and black court shoes.

I looked in the mirror, desperately trying to smooth out the creases and folds with my hands. This was the only nice skirt I had which was suitable for work.

I hesitated as I went to pull my hair back in it's familiar bun: if I wore it different then the Joker would know his comment bothered me but if I changed it, would it look like I was too eager to please him? After putting it in a bun and taking it out again about 6 times I decided to keep the bun, realising I was being ridiculous. With a firm smile, I pulled it back, the black hairband contrasting against my light hair.

I drove to work with an air of newly found confidence. I'd survived one session with the Joker, why not another? As I walked to my office, my feeling of confidence quickly dwindled. The other doctors were giving me disapproving looks, taking in my rumpled appearance. I was glad to step into my office, finally concealed from my snooty colleagues. I got my notebook and pen out and placed it on my lap to ensure I wouldn't forget about it this time. At least the Joker wouldn't be able to see my crumpled skirt as it was hidden under my desk. Looking at the clock I realised I had a few minutes to go over my notes before he came in.

There was a knock on the door, quickly followed by the two same guards yesterday carrying the Joker in. However, this time the guards had smug smirks placed on their faces - obviously due to the Joker's current condition. His white skin was contaminated by a myriad of deep purple bruises like violets laid on snow. It didn't take a genius to figure out what had transpired. I scowled at them as they chained him up, rougher than what was necessary. The Joker remained completely still until the guards had left, and then raised his eyes to meet mine.

"Did they do that to you?" I asked softly, the concern evident in my voice. His mouth pulled down in distaste before nodding slowly, stretching his scars into a distorted grimace.

"Why?" I asked in shock. It was no secret that the guards were often mean to the patients, but I'd never seen such a collection of bruises before in my life. I debated with my conscious whether to write this down in my notes or not, I felt bad about sharing something like that. My mind quickly flew to the image of my book in the stores and I laughed at myself. I was being stupid! This man had done such terrible things and here I was feeling bad about writing about some bruises.

"Why'd you think Doc? Out there I was feared, I was powerful. In here I'm just a tired man in chains – so they take advantage. You might say it is a way to gain a sense of power" he said with distaste. I copied out his answer into my notebook. His movements when he spoke was transfixing, even when he was all tied up like he was, he never stopped moving. Each sentence he said punctuated by gestures I didn't even think were possible.

"Doc?" he asked an edge of impatience to his drawling voice, clicking the letter c. I blinked my eyes, realising I'd been staring.

"Well it's an unacceptable behavior whatever the reason behind it. I will speak to Dr Arkham about it after our session. I will not stand by and see my patients being treated this way." I said, quickly trying to regain my footing, my voice rising as unexpected anger flushed through me to see his condition.

"If you tell Arkham, the guards will just beat me up even worse" his voice serious. I thought about this for a few seconds. He was right.

"Well you tell me if it happens again" I said defiantly.

"Aww you do care Doc!" he said teasingly, his emotions suddenly flipping over, his black eyes twinkling with an emotion I couldn't name.

"Well I wouldn't be here talking to you if I didn't" I replied quickly, trying to fathom his sudden playfulness.

"Its comforting to know that somewhere in this big bad world, someone is caring for little old me" he said, adopting the voice of what I assumed was meant to be a woman, and pulling a star struck face. However, the bruises on his face made the image somewhat strange.

I stuggled to contain my amusement at his antics despite this, however when he proceeded to bat his eyelashes like a love-struck teenager I couldn't help but grin.

"Your so much prettier when you smile Doc" he said, returning my grin. My eyes widened in my surprise and I felt the heat rising in my cheeks, only to make his grin widen impossibly further.

"Well, errm thank you? Anyway, today I thought we would start with a simple word association game. I will say a word and you have to say the first word that comes to mind, ok?" I said, eager to actually get the ball rolling and the attention off myself. The last thing I expected to get of him was a compliment, and to say it shocked me at least was an understatement. He sighed in exasperation at my sudden change in tact, but made no move to object. Taking that as acceptance I began:

"Sun"  
"Sun"

I raised my eyebrow but continued.

"Ball"  
"Ball"

"Orange"  
"Orange"

I looked up at him, confused as to whether or not he didn't understand the game. He was biting the inside of his cheeks, trying to supress his laughter, his eyes fixed on my face. I sighed in annoyance, only to his delight.

"How about we try again? Properly this time?" I asked, struggling to keep my voice even and to not let the sarcasm show.

"How about we try again and I go first?" he said, his voice challenging, his eyes never leaving me.

"If I say no?" I asked, knowing the answer.

"Then I don't speak for the rest of the session, you cut it short and then moan to old Jerry Arkham about how you didn't get anything useful from our talk" he replied, completely deadpan.

I bit my lip in frustration. I couldn't let him try and turn the tables on me. This is what made the other therapists before me leave. I really didn't want to cut another session short. I would just need to be careful with my answers, try not to give anyway and hope to get an insight from his choice of words. I looked at him once and nodded, gaining a large and rather frightening grin from him in return.

"Kitten"  
"Dog"

"Leukaemia"  
"Disease"

"Knife"  
"Scars"

"Me"  
"Batman"

"I make you think of Batman?" He shouted, spit spraying from his scarlet mouth, his face contorted into anger. His eyes turned even darker, darker than I thought possible as they scoured my own eyes. To my horror he was wiggling around like crazy in his confinements like a untamed beast trying to claw its way out of its cage. I could see the visible strain on the metal as he continued to thrash around.

"Comparing me to that idiotic, boredom preaching piece of batshit?" he shrieked, lunging forward, making me squeal, only to quickly lean back in his chair in fits of manic laughter at my fear stricken face.

"I got you there, huh Doc?" he giggled gleefully as I slowly straightened myself back up in my seat, my heartbeat so loud I was sure he could hear it, trying to wrap my head around the situation.

"That was not funny" I replied slowly, between deep measured breaths.

"Your pencil doesn't seem to think so either" he said, his voice laced with mock concern, his lips pushing into a pout with puppy dog eyes to boot. I quickly looked down at my hand to realise I'd snapped it in half in shock. Blood rushed to my cheeks in embarrassment.

"I think that will be all for today Joker" I said, trying to sound firm despite my still shaking hands and short breaths.

"That's the first time you've said my name!" he exclaimed like an excited boy. "But it's Mr Joker to you Doc, I don't feel like our relationship had transpired past the formalities yet" he winked.

I rolled my eyes and called the guards in, scribbling furiously in my notebook with a second pencil I had gotten out of my draw as they dragged him out, not even looking up. I noticed he had the habit of running his tongue over his lips as he spoke, not in erotic way but in quick snake-like movements. It may have possibly been a drug induced habit, a withdrawal symptom. His file included nothing about his previous life before his actions in Gotham, so I had no way of knowing for sure. Sighing at the impossible case before me I went over my notes one more time.

I know now that he was joking about his display of anger about Batman, but I couldn't help but thing that there was something more to it. There was this look in his eye, something that seemed familiar yet I couldn't place why. I grabbed my notes up in my arms, and started the walk to Dr Leland's office.

-x-

The rest of the day had blurred by, doing all the mundane things like paper work and conference meetings. The drive home seemed to take longer than usual, as if my car was trying to push against some invisible force holding me back. The night was eerily quiet as I hurried across the car park to my apartment, eager to get inside. To my annoyance, I saw that the elevator was out of order - again. I dragged myself up the stairs, my shoes pinching my toes until I reached my door. My heart stopped. It was open and I'm pretty sure that I locked it this morning.

I quietly pushed it open, trying not to let it squeak, and then gently placed my bag on the floor. Whoever was behind this might still be here. The lights were off, the only light was the dappled moonlight on the floor and the orange glow from the streets outside. I tiptoed to the kitchen and drew out a knife from a draw. I had no idea what I do with the knife if faced with the chance, but I wasn't going to risk being defenseless.

I quietly and efficiently made my way around the house as quickly as I could, there was lots of things on the floor, hindering my way. My heart sank upon realising it was probably all my possessions. My heart hammered in my chest as I desperately tried going over what I was taught in my self defense classes. The moonlight threw my senses off balance, creating large and distorted shadows.

To my absolute frustration I bashed my ankle on something on the floor. I clasped a hand over my mouth hard to stop me from yelping out. I resisted the instinctive urge to hop up and down to try and diffuse the pain. And to my amazement the hand covering my mouth was not now just muffling the curses of pain but also my giggles as I laughed at how stupid I must have looked.

God I was getting hysterical.

Trying to get a grip on myself, I checked every corner and hideaway, my grip firm on the knife, expecting the worse. No one was here. Whoever had been in here must have known my working hours. I trudged back to the kitchen and switched the lights on, blinking furiously in the sudden change of light.

I looked around the apartment once more begrudgingly, seeking out the damage done, which of my items would I have to replace. I didn't have much for them to want to steal anyway if I'm honest. An old TV that needed to be kicked a few times before it sprung to life, all my furniture had seen better days.

The apartment was a mess. My things were strewn across the floor, a sea of clothes, paper, cutlery and God knows what - a cornucopia of my belongings. This was odd. I couldn't spot anything that was missing, granted it was hard when my whole apartment had seemingly been turned upside down. Looking at the destruction around me I realised that it looked more like someone had simply been looking through all my stuff. However, I had no idea what they could possibly be searching for.

I didn't own anything precious or worthy of the effort to be honest. Maybe it had just been some teenagers looking for fun, the little shits had probably been dared to do it, to turn my house into a wreck. This would take me at least a day to clean up again, and only then would I be able to get a real insight to the damage done.

I spun on my heels and went to my bag as quickly as I could to get my phone, dodging bits of broken glass, thankful I had kept my shoes on when I initially searched the house. I punched in Jeremiah's number and impatiently waited for him to answer.

"Hello?"

"Dr Arkham? It's me. Dr Quinzel. I've been robbed, well at least I think it was a robbery. But basically my apartment is a mess and I need a few days to sort everything out and see what needs replacing. Is that ok?"

"A robbery? Are you hurt?"

"No I'm fine, they were gone by the time I got back"

"That's something then at least, I'll cancel your sessions for the rest of this week and I will see you Monday?"

"That's plenty of time thank you."

"Goodnight"

"Goodnight"

I shut off the phone and placed it back in my bag. I marveled at how my boss managed to remain cold and passive even in the situation. Though a robbery was nothing new in Gotham. It happened every night. I didn't plan on calling the police. They had bigger things to be looking out for than a breaking and entering situation in a house just off the Narrows. I got ready for bed quickly, and managed to salvage a blanket from a cupboard before settling down on the sofa. I wondered if the Joker would be angry at me cancelling our sessions.

I could imagine him bored in his cell for the next few days. Being the threat he was, he wasn't allowed to go into the recreation room until his behavior improved. Well I had good enough reason to miss them, I couldn't exactly leave my apartment in this state. I continued to think about work and my apartment, my my anxious mind manifesting into a stream of unwanted worries, until I drifted off into a troubled sleep.


	3. Broken Ties

**AN: To those who are following my story, I have added my new chapter 4 to the end of what was chapter 3. **

I shot up awake and almost screamed aloud as I saw the time was 9:00 am. I was late for work!

With eyes half open I quickly got out of bed and tripped over the edge of my blanket only to land awkwardly on my bedroom floor - face down, my head banging hard. I rolled over painfully and groaned, it felt like I was lying on a stony beach or something.

That's when it dawned on me. I opened my eyes, and sure enough, my floor was covered in all sorts of objects. How could I be so stupid? I had actually momentarily forgotten about the events of last night in my shock at seeing the time.

I tried to get up as slowly as possible, scared of falling over again. My head hurt like hell, my fingers explored the damage and when I brought them back down they were covered in blood. I squealed at the sight, and rushed to the bathroom, slipping and sliding all over the place.

There was a cut across half of my forehead where I had effectively face planted. I groaned at the sight, I looked like something from a horror movie, blood running down my face. I got a flannel off the floor and ran it under the cold tap before pressing it lightly against the cut ignoring the sting.

I went back to my bedroom and picked up the phone, I was going to need help tidying up my house; it was too much for me to do on my own in a reasonable amount of time. I scrolled through the few contacts I had, debating with myself who to call.

I lingered on my friend Jade for a while. We had been great friends in University, but I hadn't spoken to her for almost half a year. It would be rude of me to just call her up and ask for help. It would be very rude, but I needed her so I called anyway.

I held the phone to my ear with my free hand, the other hand still holding the flannel to my forehead.

"Harley?" she squealed in excitement.

"Yes, it's me" I laughed. I hadn't been called Harley in so long, it was like being at Uni all over again.

"Oh my gosh, it's been so long! How are you?" she said without taking a breath.

"I know, too long, I've just been so busy. And well to tell you the truth, I'm not that great now. My house was broken into yesterday and my apartment is in a state." I said, scowling at my lack of tact.

"Oh you poor thing! Don't tell me, you need my help cleaning up, right?" she said, her voice serious and chiding at the same time. I had almost forgotten about her ability to get to straight to the point in any conversation.

"Well only if you're free of course. I mean I understand …" I trailed off in embarrassment at my audacity.

"Don't be silly, of course I will come. I will be in there 30 minutes, ok?" she said, stating more than asking.

"That will be great. I will see you then!" I said, relieved that I was going to have help.

"No problem! Byeeeeeeee!" she said, hanging up before I got a chance to answer.

I'd forgotten how bossy Jade could be. I went into the bathroom, trying to pick out my shampoo and shower gel from the mess on the floor. I quickly stripped off my pajamas and cleared the shower out before finally stepping into the hot stream on water.

I felt my muscles relax under the welcome heat. I washed as quickly as I could, cursing aloud as shampoo got into my cut. I stepped out and toweled off. My forehead really did look a lot better now it was clean.

I'd only just had time to brush though my hair, and put on a pair of sweats and an old t shirt before I heard an impatient knocking at my door.

"Just coming!" I called.

As soon as the door was open wide enough, Jade marched in, only to have her mouth drop open in shock at the state of my apartment. She was dressed inappropriately as always in a maxi skirt and a designer cashmere turtleneck jumper. Her glossy chocolate brown hair hung in loose curls around her shoulders.

"You weren't kidding Harls" she said in exasperation.

I smiled tentatively at her, once again embarrassed for asking her to help.

"It will be fine!" I said encouragingly, showing her the rest of my apartment, warning her to look out for broken glass and similar hazards just waiting on my floor.

"You want a spare change of clothes?" I asked, seeing her awkwardly trying to follow me at the same time as holding her skirt up and keeping her elbows tucked in.

"Yes please" she said, already taking off her jumper and folding it onto my bed. I rummaged through my clothes, trying to find something that was practical yet still suitable for Jade to wear. Her clothes were clearly expensive, and she clearly disapproved of my attire despite everything.

I had no idea where she had gotten her money from, I couldn't see her getting a great job, she had a harder time in University than I did, and believe me, that is saying something. I pulled out a dark blue long sleeved top from my drawers and plucked a pair of leggings off the top of my curtain rack (honestly?) and then handed them over to her.

"Jeez Harl, what did you do to your head? You look like a thug or something" she commented, whilst pulling on the leggings.

"I fell over this morning" I said, wishing I had bangs to cover it up.

"Well that's not surprising, I can barely walk around here" she said, pulling the sweater over her head.

We had chatted and laughed as we cleared up my house, yet it just wasn't the same between us as it used to be in University. I couldn't help but feel she was looking down at me, she just seemed different as if she had somehow outgrown me. Every now and then she would pick up an item off my floor, be it a piece of clothing or whatever and raise an eyebrow at as if to say: _Really?_

We had gotten most of it done together in half of the day. To my dismay I had thrown away a lot of things as they were broken or unusable. I made Jade and I a cup of coffee each and set them down at the kitchen table. As she brought the mug to her lips, I saw something flash in the light on her hand.

"Is that an engagement ring?" I asked, surprised and yet not surprised at the same time that she hadn't told me.

"Oh yes, sorry for not telling you, but you never called, you know? Isn't it beautiful?" she said, putting her hand up in front of my face.

"I'll say" I said with a sigh. The ring itself probably cost more than the content of my entire apartment. That answers the mysterious money question.

"Who's the lucky man?" I asked.

"His name is Mark. He is the manager of this really big company" she exclaimed excitedly. "Were marrying next month and then were moving to Spain!"

I blinked at her answer, guess I wasn't invited to her wedding and if she was moving away, I probably wasn't going to see her again. Yet she seemed to be ecstatic, so I found it in myself to share in her excitement.

"That's such exciting news, you must be so happy" I said, trying my best to mirror her mood, but she must have caught something on my face.

"Look, I'm sorry that you're not invited to the wedding, it's just the numbers were so big anyway and you never called or came to see me, so I didn't think you were interested" she apologised.

"Don't worry, I understand" I said, although it wasn't like she had bothered to call me either. Maybe she was busy with her new luxury lifestyle. I know I'm being bitter, and maybe I'm just jealous, but I really wasn't warming up to this "new" Jade.

"Well I'm so glad to hear that. Anyways, I'm super sorry but I have a manicure at 4:30 and I don't want to be late so do you mind if I leave?" she asked, looking at her phone.

"No not all" I smiled at her. I was being honest, true to her word she had done her best to help me clean my apartment, and I was kind of relieved to see her leave. I didn't want to be the subject of her judging stare any longer today.

We exchanged formalities as she left; promising in vain to try and keep in touch though both us knew that we wouldn't.

The rest of the day went by slowly, as I cleared up the rest of the mess. Part of me was excited to get back to work tomorrow as I ironed my shirt and skirt. I hadn't felt excited to go to work for a long time. The other part of me was confused. I didn't know how to feel about Jade, I could only compare it to the feeling I had when the Joker had first walked into my office and looked around.

I had felt pathetic then and I felt it now. She was off getting married and moving to Spain and here I was living in a shabby apartment in the Narrows on my own. But at least I had earned my apartment, I was paying my own bills. I had a respected title and I WAS going to be famous! I proceeded to get ready for bed with a firm sense of determination. I was going to write the book on the Joker and I was going to be rich.

By the time I was finished it was really late but I was relieved to have my apartment back in order, although missing a few items that got broken. I curled up into bed and slept an uninterrupted sleep.

* * *

I felt refreshed as I drove to work, a now seemingly rare occasion. The thought of my published book on shop shelves spurred me on as I turned into the car park. Even the day seemed to reflect my mood, the sun shining down on me as I marched to the gates.

I tried not to let the dirty walls of the asylum dampen my mood as I walked to my office. It didn't matter how bright the sun shone outside, inside the asylum there was an ever present forecast, hanging over our heads.

I sat down at my desk, arranging my paper and pen before me. No more pencils for me, I was still embarrassed from the time he had made me snap one from shock.

I waited in my office impatiently for the clock to read 9 am, knowing that I should be planning my session right now. To hell with that, I should have planned my session yesterday. Part of me knew it was hopeless to ever work towards a scheduled session with the Joker; things were always bound to go off track.

I mentally slapped myself then. Jeez, was I getting sloppy. I was meant to be in charge of these sessions, not him! I grabbed my pen and scrawled out a quick plan on my pad of paper. I was still too scared to talk about the Batman but I thought that starting on his henchmen would be a good way to start.

The familiar sound of the knocking on my door filled my office.

"Come in" I called, scowling at myself for still being nervous. The guards brought him in quickly and efficiently, too efficiently. I was expecting the Joker to suddenly shout out at the guards or something similar, but he just sat in his chair smiling, as they bolted his chains shut.

His bruises had already begun to fade since the incident 2 days ago, their vivid purple now a dull yellow colour.

"Thank you" I said smiling at them before they leaved. I turned to face the Joker then. Would I ever not be scared to be alone in a room with him? I doubt it.

"Good morning Mr Joker" I said, remembering what he said about formalities. "How are you today?" I sounded so stiff and scripted.

"Pleasant enough" he replied, still smiling. There was something about that smile that made my heart quicken despite myself. It was too docile, too friendly … too normal?

"Pleasant enough, despite being so bored out of my mind yesterday, you wouldn't even guess" he added, the last four words separated by punctual pauses, his eyes blazing but his smile remaining.

Oh shit. I squirmed in my seat.

"I'm sorry I couldn't attend our session yesterday, I had some things I had to attend to" I said, hoping he wouldn't press the matter, but of course he did.

"And what so called 'things' are important enough to keep you from here?" he asked, raising an eyebrow and finally dropping his smile.

"That is my business and not yours" I said firmly, but docile enough to not anger him – I hoped.

"I think it is _my _business when you miss _my _session, so what was it, hmm?" he asked again.

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes at him; honestly, you'd think I'd been gone for a week.

"My personal life is my own business and mine only. I've already apologised for missing our session so can we please get back on track?" I said, hating myself for turning the last part into a question.

"We could get back on track …" he said, tilting his head to the side as if thinking over something in his head.

"Great" I said, before he could finish whatever he planned to say.

"But only if you tell me what you were doing yesterday" he added, turning his burning eyes towards me.

I almost threw my pen down on the desk then in anger, but his eyes caught me. I sat back in my chair then, biting my lip as I thought this over.

"A relative died? A broken tyre? A friend in need? Your cat got run over?" he said, throwing guesses at me.

Surely it wouldn't do that much harm if I told him? I mean break-ins happen all the time. Maybe I could snatch something valuable from his response to the information?

"I was sick" I lied, deciding against the truth.

"Sick? How does being sick count as something you need to, uh, attend to?" he questioned, smirking at my obvious lie.

I seemed to shrink in my seat. Now he would be angry, I flinched back, expecting him to start wriggling out of his confinements any minute now.

"You know Doc, I'm hurt you lied to me" he said, his voice slow and serious.

My eyes widened. Where was the raised voice? Where were the threats and abusive names?

"I don't see how you expect me to, uh, open up to you, if you won't, open up to me" he added, his eyebrows furrowed and his mouth curled downwards.

I blinked furiously, tucking a strand of hair behind my ears.

"My house was broken into, I spent yesterday cleaning up after the mess they made" I blurted out with relief at him not being angry. Dr Arkham was going to kill me.

"Aww that's too bad" he said, tilting his head to the side, looking down.

Was the Joker comforting me? I felt my blood begin to boil with anger at his hypocrisy, or maybe at the fact that I told him? Either way I was totally pissed.

"Too bad? I'm almost certain you've probably done the same thing!" I said, my voice rising in volume.

"Too bad someone else got there before I did" he said calmly, belittling my anger.

"That's enough!" I shouted, getting out my chair and walking towards the door. His eyes never left me, and it became painstakingly aware to me that I was closer to him than ever before.

Tearing my eyes off of his with all my might, I opened the door and called the guards in to take him away. I stepped away from the door, and watched silently as they took him out, still fuming inside.

I sat back at my desk when he was gone. I looked down at my scribbled out planned session and almost screamed aloud. I grabbed it with my hands, ripping it into pieces out of anger. So much for that idea.

My eyes began to fill up with tears then as I thought about the impossible task before me. Who was I too think I would be the one to cure him? I would end up ditching the case just like the other doctors had.

I thought about Jade then, and all the wonderful things she had in her life. She was given them, but I would have to work towards my goals and I would do whatever it takes - whatever it takes.

I heard a gentle knock at my door.

I looked up in annoyance, quickly blinking the tears away as I walked over to open it, revealing a very concerned Joan on the other side.

"Tom and Marco told me you seemed stressed?" she began, smiling at me sympathetically.

I blinked at her in confusion, Tom and Marco who now? I realised then she was talking about the guards, I guess it wasn't hard for them to read my emotions.

"Oh I'm fine, I just got a little worked up, nothing to worry about, and I'm just a little tired as all" I lied to her.

I didn't want to tell her about my conversation with the Joker. She would take the case off of me and say that I wasn't experienced enough to handle it. I knew she had disagreed when Dr Arkham had offered the proposal for me to do it.

"I understand I heard what happened at your place" she said, placing a hand over my arm in a gesture of comfort.

"Thanks Joan, everything is sorted now, I just need to catch up on my sleep" I reassured her, thankful that she was being so kind.

"Oh, as I can imagine. Anyways I must run before I'm late for my next session, but I thought I would just check in and see that you're doing ok" she said.

More like coming to check if I had snapped out of the case yet.

"That's ok, thanks again" I said, waving at her before closing my door.

I turned back towards my office and sighed a huge sigh of relief.


End file.
